


Should've Seen This Coming (From a Mile Away)

by blue_morning



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Destiel -Freeform, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, O Canada, gratuitous spa enjoyment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 01:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11887182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_morning/pseuds/blue_morning
Summary: To say that Dean Winchester is unhappy to be wearing swim trunks in the middle of February in fucking Canada is somewhat of an understatement. The one saving grace is that Cas is as well, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping him seething quietly instead of exploding.





	Should've Seen This Coming (From a Mile Away)

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Luna](https://twitter.com/cin_nic) for her donation to Team Trashbrigade's 2017 Gishscholarship drive. You're the best!
> 
> Title from _18_ by Anarbor.

To say that Dean Winchester is unhappy to be wearing swim trunks in the middle of February in fucking Canada is somewhat of an understatement. The one saving grace is that Cas is as well, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping him seething quietly instead of exploding.

Team Free Will had been enjoying some post-Christmas downtime in the bunker, sticking close to home, only venturing out for a few hunts relatively nearby. Then two cases had cropped up at the same time: a hunter in Santa Barbara sending up a distress signal for help with what sounded like a clear-cut case of vampires, and a string of construction workers disappearing at a spa in Quebec, Canada.

Sam suggested a coin toss, but Dean was having none of that shit. He insisted on rock, paper, scissors, and ended up with the Canada-in-winter end of the stick. Cas, given the choice between accompanying Sam to sunny California or driving with Dean into darkest Canada, had surprised exactly one of them by electing to go with Dean.

“Are you nuts, Cas?” Dean said. 

“Sam has backup in California, Dean. I don’t think you should go alone.”

So they drove northeast through Kansas and Ohio, cut the corner of Pennsylvania, Dean driving and Cas doing research in the passenger seat. The weather was better than they had a right to expect for the time of year and Baby had made good time. They discussed the case: four workers employed by a construction company hired by the spa had disappeared when they’d gone to mark some trees for cutting on the property to make way for new spa buildings. Each had gone alone into the forest at different times on different days, and failed to come out again. At first the company, used to a workforce that was nearly transient, had assumed they’d just walked off the job, but soon worried calls from wives and relatives had gotten the Sûreté du Québec, the provincial police force, investigating. But no one knew if the spa was a crime scene, and the investigation had cooled off while the cops concentrated on the company and its offices in Gatineau.

“It’s too close to civilization to be a Wendigo,” Cas mused. “And no one has found a lair or any bodies. The timing isn’t right for werewolves.” He stopped the conversation as they crossed over into Ontario from somewhere in upstate New York, the border patrol barely looking at their counterfeit passports before waving them on. Two hours later, they’d crossed from Ontario into Quebec and arrived at the spa. It was midafternoon and snowing slightly.

They had no RCMP credentials, and this was way out of FBI jurisdiction, so they had decided it was going to be easiest to look around by showing up at the spa as customers. They’d bought swim trunks and flip-flops at a Walmart in Ohio.

“So, like we’re going to get seaweed wraps and facials?” Dean grinned, remembering the spa where they’d first met Donna.

“It’s not that kind of spa,” Cas had explained. “It’s a Nordic spa. Outdoors. Saunas. Steam rooms. Hot and cold pools. Heated hammocks.”

That caught Dean’s attention. “You mean we are going to be _outside? In this?_ ” He gestured at the snowbanks surrounding the parking lot. “It’s gotta be like ten degrees out there.”

“Close,” Cas agreed. “It’s -11 Celcius, which is about 12 degrees Farenheit.”

“This is crazy. And since when do two men go to a spa together anyway?”

“Quebec is very European. No one is going to look twice at us. At most, they’ll think we’re a couple. Canada has had legal same-sex marriage since 2005.” He tilted his head and squinted at Dean. “Why? Does this bother you?”

Dean busied himself gathering up his belongings so he wouldn’t have to meet Cas’s eyes. He wasn’t at all ready to tell Cas how _not_ bothered he’d be about being mistaken for Cas’s boyfriend. How he’d been feeling plenty of not-friend feelings over the past months and wasn’t sure what to do with them, so repressing them seemed like the best plan.

They walked across the parking lot and up a wooden staircase into a wooden building that looked like it might have been misplaced from a fairytale — a woodcutter’s cottage, only larger. They paid for admission and were given plastic bracelets with numbers scrawled on them in marker. The numbers matched lockers and by waving them in front of the locker, the door opened to reveal long white terrycloth robes, two towels, and a water bottle.

“Do we really need to wear swim trunks?” Dean whispered. “We are gonna freeze solid.”

“Shut up and change,” Cas told him.

And that's how Dean ended up where he is now: standing near the change-room door, dressed in much less clothing than he's entirely comfortable with, watching a stream of laughing people, dressed in flip-flops and robes over bathing suits, some wearing knit hats, go out the door and into a winter fairyland. 

It’s like someone has taken a village from Finland and set it down in the Quebec woods. Wooden saunas and steam rooms are scattered around a landscape of snow-patched, glacier-smooth granite rocks, punctuated by pools of blue water, some of them steaming gently in the cold air, others standing still and cold like they’re carved from sapphire. Behind the buildings, a waterfall plunges off a low granite cliff, pouring over a column of ice to fall into a pool below. The air is crisp and scented with woodsmoke. And everywhere are tall, thin trees, some still bearing withered brown leaves. Oaks. Young oak trees.

Cas looks at at them speculatively.

“Dean, there are oak trees everywhere. We need to see if there are oak trees over where the new construction is planned.”

“Why?”

“I have an idea of what we might be dealing with.”

“And we’re gonna go over there in robes and flip-flops? Do we even know where the disappearances happened?”

Cas opens a pamphlet and smooths it out on the counter they’re standing next to. People are still walking past them, going out dry and coming in wet and flushed, talking happily in a near even mix of English and French.

“Here’s a map of the spa,” he says. ”See over here it says that a mud bath is opening later this summer? That’s where they’re expanding into the forest. It makes sense that’s where the disappearances happened.”

They leave the main building and walk past the hot pools and the Finnish sauna down a path that leads to an octagonal building. Through the windows Dean can see people relaxing in chairs around a central, glass-fronted fireplace. Beyond is the edge of the woods, a broken piece of caution tape hanging dispiritedly from a wooden stake beside a roll of snow fencing..

“That looks like it,” Dean says. They walk past the building and look at the unbroken snow between them and the treeline. “Real good plan, Cas. Wade through the snow in our flip-flops. That’s going to be all kinds of fun. We’ll freeze before we cover five feet. And it’s not going to attract any attention at all.” His voice drips with sarcasm.

Cas sighs heavily. “We’ll be out of sight of the spa once we’re behind this building. And as for the cold...” Cas touches Dean’s hand and he feels an electric tingle that spreads out into a gentle warmth over his whole body.

“Did you just use your grace?”

“Yes, Dean. It’ll keep you warm.” The _you big baby_ remains unsaid, but hangs there regardless.

“Well, OK,” Dean huffs, and steps off the path. It’s a strange feeling: he’s sinking almost to his knees in the snow, but he’s as warm as if he were sitting drinking coffee at the kitchen table in the bunker. They make their way past the caution tape and into the woods. Snow is still falling lightly, and the winter sun is hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows between the trees. 

The woods are silent except for the occasional call of a chickadee. After about ten minutes of slogging through snow and underbrush, they reach a clearing. In the centre stands a ring of oak trees, old ones, bent and twisted.

“Oh that's not suspicious _at all_ ,” Dean says, stopping to wait for Cas to catch up. Together they walk between two of the trees. There’s a rippling in the air, a feeling like a sudden change in air pressure, and they’re standing in a grove of oaks in summer dress. Grass carpets the ground at their feet, strewn with wildflowers, green leaves dance on the trees in a summer breeze. Dean turns and looks back the way they came. Beyond the old oaks, it’s still midwinter. His eyes are drawn back to the centre of the grove by sudden movement. There’s a young woman standing there barefoot on the grass. She has pale skin and long hair the colour of new spring leaves arranged in a complicated looped and whorled style. Her eyes are dark brown, and she’s wearing a long dress a few shades darker than her hair.

She looks over and raises her arms threateningly towards them. Dean starts to lunge forward with the demon knife, but Cas stops him with a raised hand and speaks a stream of some foreign language to the woman. To Dean’s surprise, and evidently hers, she drops her arms to her side and answers Cas. Cas asks her a question and a rush of words tumble out. Cas listens, nodding, and answers her. They converse for a few minutes more, and she turns and walks to the trees on the other side of the glade.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks.

“Where were you hiding that knife? Surely not in your swim trunks. That would be dangerous.”

Dean opens his mouth and shuts it again, glaring at Cas.

“Can’t be too careful. The robes have deep pockets. But seriously, what is she and why aren’t we killing her?”

“She’s a dryad, Dean. Her name is Nerinphe.”

“A dryad. In Canada.”

“She was brought here by an immigrant in the 1800s. He left his village on the island of Crete when his home burned down. The fire consumed Nerinphe’s tree as well, and only a small branch remained. The man brought it over with him when he came here and planted it on his new homestead. Nerinphe’s spirit was in the branch and she made it grow into a tree. He never married and, after he died, the homestead grew over and returned to wilderness. She’s been living here happily, among the wildlife, far enough away from the spa to escape discovery. But with the new construction, men came into the forest and four of them stumbled onto her sacred grove and she didn’t know what to do, so she turned them into trees.” 

“And you let her walk away?”

“It’s reversible. She can turn them back. They won’t remember.” 

“So what’s gonna happen when the next guy shows up in the grove?”

“Nothing. She’s gone to give her blessing to the clearing and then she’s coming with us. I told her that we could plant her in the woods behind the bunker or send her back to Greece. She chose the latter. I’ll make sure she gets back to Crete.”

“We’re just going to parade through the spa with a green-haired chick and pack her into Baby?”

Cas sighs irritably. “No. Just watch.”

Nerinphe comes back into the clearing and stands in front of Cas. She smiles shyly at Dean and he tries hard not to smile back. She puts her hands on Cas’s shoulders and says something to him, her voice earnest, then she steps back. She raises her arms and chants. A green glow gathers around her, enveloping her form. A single tendril of green light reaches out and touches Cas’s chest, and then she’s gone, the green glow closing in on itself and getting smaller until it’s only a pinpoint of bright light. It disappears with a _pop_ and something small falls on the grass. Cas bends down and picks it up. An iridescent green acorn lies in his palm.

“She’s in there?” Dean asks.

“Yes, and we can send this to the Greek hunter, the Lamia expert.”

“Spyros?”

“He’ll plant this somewhere she won’t be disturbed.” 

“What did she say to you before she...acorned herself?” 

“She thanked me and gave me a blessing: ‘may your powers flourish like an oak tree’.” Cas puts the acorn carefully in the pocket of his robe. He doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes.

Snow is coming down now, blanketing the green grass of the grove. The green leaves turn brown as Dean and Cas watch. And there’s a shuffling of feet through snow beyond the ring of oaks, as four figures break away from the far side of the grove and make their way back to towards the spa and civilization.

Dean and Cas wait until they’re out of sight before heading back themselves. It’s hard to see now, the sun is below the horizon, and the snow looks indigo in the twilight. They make towards the lights of the spa.

Dean starts to shiver in the bitter wind as they cross the last feet of open snow, walking in their outgoing footprints.

“Do you need some more grace?” Cas asks, as they make their way onto a path at the octagonal sauna.

“Nah, I’ve got a better idea.” He points over to their left. “There’s hot pools over there. And a bar. I think a soak and a beer before we head out is just what the doctor ordered. Might as well make the most of our admission.”

They hang their robes on the hooks provided and sink thankfully into the steaming water, Dean with a local beer that the bartender had told him was closest to an American beer, and Cas sipping on a metal tumbler of mulled wine. The pool is surrounded by manufactured rock and there’s a bench underwater to sit on so that their heads and shoulders are out of the water. They’re in the furthest of the three pools, the smallest one, and Cas smiles at the other occupants. There’s a group of teenaged girls at one end, their makeup perfect despite the steam rising from the water and their hair up in topknots. There’s a married couple, a man and woman in their 30s, sipping wine and relaxing, and two men in their 20s who seem to be on a first date, based on their conversation which progresses in fits and starts as each new subject arises.

Dean leans his head back against the faux rock and closes his eyes, reveling in the hot water and cold beer. He could get used to this. The water surges and he opens his eyes to see the gaggle of teenagers climb out, leaving only the two couples and him and Cas in the pool. Cas is beside him, and he can feel their arms brush when Dean picks up his beer for a sip. He’s quite content to sit there without speaking, eyes closed, listening to the casual chat going on around him.

The combination of beer and hot water relaxes him, and soon he’s drifting in a kind of trance, images from the day playing out behind his eyelids. Cas looking dangerously undressed in his robe, firm calves and muscular chest peeking out. Cas’s commanding look when he stopped Dean from lunging at the dryad with his knife. Cas leading the way into the hot pool, his trunks a lot more form-fitting than Dean had imagined. Cas… Dean is aware of a stirring sensation under the water, a tingle that’s more than just arousal, one that’s strangely familiar and yet not at the same time. His eyes fly open.

It’s full dark now. The pool is illuminated by two recessed underwater lights, but that’s not what Dean’s noticing now. There’s a blue glow underwater. A glow that’s coming from Cas and suffusing the water of the pool, moving in tendrils across the bottom of the pool towards the other side.

“Cas,” he whispers, making it a question. Cas turns lazily towards him, pupils dwarfing the blue of his eyes. “Cas, what’s going on? Is that your grace?” Dean can feel his body tingling. Cas is staring into his eyes now, a look on his face that’s frankly hungry. Dean realizes the other couples aren’t talking anymore, because they’re busy making out. There’s a plastic wine goblet bobbing around in the water next to the married couple as they kiss passionately. The first-date couple look like they’re in danger of drowning as they grapple in the water, one guy pushing the other against the wall of the pool to kiss him hard. The blue glow has spread across the whole pool.

“Uh, Cas?”

Cas leans closer. “Yes, Dean?”

“I think your grace is a little outta control. And dude, is that what’s making everyone...um…romantic?”

Cas pulls back, focusing on Dean and shaking his head like he’s trying to wake himself up. He looks kinda panicked, Dean thinks. “Dean, it’s Nerinphe’s blessing. I think this is my ‘power flourishing like an oak tree’.“

“Well, quit flourishing,” Dean hisses as the wife’s bikini top floats towards them. “Come on, we gotta get you outta here.” Dean grabs Cas by the hand and pulls him towards the steps of the pool, passing the first-date couple who are busy having a first date to remember, if the churning water is anything to go by. They clamber out of the pool and the cold instantly takes care of the situation that was developing in Dean’s swim trunks, which clears his head. He wraps Cas in his robe and puts his own on quickly. “We’re going to the car.”

“But the keys. Aren’t they in the locker?”

Dean pats the pocket of his robe. “Please. No way I’m leaving Baby’s keys in a locker. What if we needed to make a quick getaway?” They cut between two buildings and down into the tree-lined parking lot to where Baby is parked in a far corner. They walk as fast as they can through the frigid night air and Dean starts Baby up the moment they’re both inside. But she’s been sitting in the cold all day, so when Cas scoots across the bench seat and leans against Dean for warmth, he doesn’t complain. And then the interior of the car starts to glow. Blue light leaks from Cas and surrounds both of them. Dean can feel the tingle again, the one that’s a mix of arousal and the warming, healing pulse of Cas’s grace. 

“Cas?’ Dean’s voice is serious and maybe a bit scared. “Cas, what’s going on?” 

Cas looks up at him. He lets his head fall back against the seat and takes a deep breath. “It’s the blessing.” 

“The ‘power flourishing like an oak tree’ blessing? Dude, when is it gonna stop? And why is it so different from your usual grace? Cas, it’s practically an aphrodisiac.”

“I should have seen this coming. Dean, there was... more to the blessing than I told you. I think the important part came after that bit,” Cas says, looking down.”

“Cas, what else did she say?” Dean’s voice is soft in the darkness.

“May your powers flourish like an oak tree...:” Cas pauses for a moment like he’s gathering up courage and then continues, “and get you your heart’s desire.”

Dean can feel his heart beating in his chest. He’s dizzy. Is Cas saying what he thinks he’s saying? Does Cas feel the same way that he does? _Well, one way to find out._

Dean leans close and kisses Cas. For a moment, Cas kisses back, and it’s magic. But suddenly he pulls away.

“No, I can’t do this Dean. I can’t take advantage of you if you’re under the dryad’s spell. It’s wrong.”

“Cas,” Dean cradles his face in his hands. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, way before we ran into Little Ms. Acorn. Her blessing just kinda broke the ice.”

“But the others in the pool —”

“They looked like they were already pretty into each other. I think your dryad grace just nudged things along a little faster.”

Cas sits back and thinks about this. “So, you want this? You want me?”

Dean leans forward and shows him just how much. He’s got Cas spread out on the front seat, and he’s got his robe open. Baby’s heater is kicking in and the windows are fogging up. And as Dean runs his hands over Cas’s chest and Cas hauls him down for another kiss, he realizes he’s got his heart’s desire too. _Thank you, Nerinphe_ , he thinks, and it’s his last coherent thought for quite a while.

**Author's Note:**

> The story is made up, but the spa is real. [Le Nordik](https://chelsea.lenordik.com/en/) is in Chelsea, Quebec.


End file.
